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The Beach at Santa Barbara 



A California Idyle 



Being an appreciation of California 
from the snow line of the Sierras to 
the orange laden breezes of the 
South : ; : : : 



By 

JENNY STURTEVANT MacMILLAN 



Published By 

OVERLAND PUBLISHING COMPANY 

257-259 Minna Street 
SAN FRANCISCO 



Price 50 Cents 






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Father Michael 



JAN -7 1922 



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To a Generous Public 



Whom I know will pardon this rather personal in- 
trusion on time that is so valuable in this day and age, 
if the merits of my earnest tribute has nothing further 
to commend it than my zeal for California. 

Maybe an occasional reader of the "South" will be 
made curious to know the wild beauties of the "North" 
and its splendid possibilities; perhaps those of North- 
ern California will be given a stimulus to know the 
glories of Southern California and its delicate charm 
of climate — then shall I not have written in vain. 

To Mr. Vernon of "The Santa Barbara Morning 
Press," the "Recreation Center," and the "Santa Bar- 
bara School of Arts," I am indebted for courtesies. 
My illusrations are the appreciated compliments of a 
busy capitalist, president of many of the State's great 
interests — contributons of a life-long friend always 
ready to "boost"; and lastly, those of a Franciscan 
Brother, whose lecture at Santa Barbara's Mission has 
been given ten thousand times — still did they find time 
to pay deference to my effort, the result to come to 
you through Mr. G. B. Barnett, U. S. M. C. son of 
a world's war, and my publisher. 

Gratefully, 

Jenny Sturtevant Macmillan. 

November 15, 1921. 



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Fair Daughter of California — that is you, Santa 
Barbara ! 

Years ago when the children of a Supreme Judge 
of Nevada were playing about the knees of their 
grandfather — genial old Governor Bradley — one kept 
saying: "Whisper in my ear. Grandpa, tell me, whom 
do you love best — say Grandpa, truly whom do you 
love best?" In concentration the Governor paid 
seemingly no attention to the wee blonde elf, yet after 
she bantered and coaxed, presently in desperation he 
.pressed his lips to the eager childish ear and said: "I 
love you best. Honey, but you mustn't tell the other 
children ! " The story is quite in point, as we can 
fancy California may have whispered that to Santa 
Barbara often. 

I am Nevada born, but when my good father, who 
is part of the history of both states, left Nevada we 
made one of California's counties of the north, Men- 
docino, our home. Right here I want to say to you, 
kind reader, as Santa Barbara has taught me so much 
of your glorious south, and educated me extensively 
in the wonders of our splendid California, none will 
further your knowledge more of the north than digni- 
fied and queenly Mendocino. And while near, do not 
miss your "Switzerland of America," Lake County; 
nor Humboldt, with her towering ferns, likewise her 

[ Pa g e / r V e ] 




The Dignified and Queen/l; Mendocino Count}^ 
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splendid Redwoods and her regal tiger lilies — and you 
shall have seen beauteous Sonoma and Marin on the 
way, and you will be determined to see Shasta in all 
her glory before your return. Indeed, to quote the 
late Miss Josephine Feusier, club woman and traveler, 
of San Francisco, "See your Yosemite and all the rest 
of California's glories before you go east and to Eu- 
rope, or else feel your insignificance by your ignor- 
ance of the fame that your own home surroundings 
have abroad." 

I was introduced to your charming section at Mrs. 
L. B. Page's "Las Cruces Inn," in that wonderful gar- 
den of Santa Barbara's flowers, where your society 
folk journey for a luncheon, a dinner. From home 
they wrote me, "What flowers?" and I simply an- 
swered, "Every flower and rose that grows under the 
sun! 

And such beauties lure one everywhere about you, 
you all know them — I only hope you catch just a part 
of their glory as it calls and beckons at every turn. 
An "ad" in the "Morning Press," the generous co- 
operation of the "Recreation Center"; or the kindly 
suggestion from the "Santa Barbara School of Arts'* 
— brings me business opportunities — alas, alack! 
though the mocking bird, thrush and linnet give a 
classic concert" 'neath the sheltering arms of the rub- 

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Do Not Miss Your "Sivitzerland of America" — Lalfe Countv 
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ber tree you planted in 1872, so I make myself com- 
fortable on the seat of its hospitable trunk for the 
concert. Often the program is lengthy; and after 
such music one naturally wants a little art. You can 
not leave a wonder program like that and not dream. 
So twice I have climbed the "Mesa" to the utmost 
point, to see the wonders from there; once in the 
softened lights of the fog, hill, valley, town, and sea, 
were a dream in misty color tones. Then again the 
fascination of it beckoned me once more, and I saw 
it in all the beauty of the sun's jeweled brilliancy. 

Think you, gentle reader, that for a study of the 
applied arts a student of the "Normal School" could 
have a finer location than you have? A Santa Bar- 
bara Normal student begins the day's study to the 
music of your chimes, and a vista of inspirational 
beauty nowhere to be surpassed. The student day 
closes with the benediction of the mocking bird's 
carol, and the picture of his surroundings alive with 
soft whisperings of the glorious calling the profession 
offers. 

But Business! My Work! We all must be busy 
in some way — ah yes. Well, like the Eden of old, 
someone must be blamed; so I will blame your ex- 
quisite beauty, Santa Barbara, if I have not concen- 
trated as I should. 



\Pog 




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Surely my days here are truly characterized by 
"Polyanna" gladness. One of your many devotees 
said, "Did you go to the Ambassador site?" All was 
so beautiful there, and the grounds are still left as evi- 
dence." We that are from San Francisco, you know, 
in 1906 had so many ashes then, cherished hopes, 
homes and all that we treasured, that fire sites are 
only calculated to awaken sorrows and regrets. I have 
an aversion to cowards, moral or physical, so hoW 
glad I am over another of Santa Barbara's memory 
pictures! Thoughtfully and sadly I looked over the 
scene of destruction ; then the memory of the notables 
that had entered there, the famous from everywhere 
seemed to echo an inspiration that made me run up 
the steps to the vanished "Portals of the Past," and 
turn quickly about for the view back of me. And 
that picture, fair Santa Barbara, may be as attractive 
with its vista of blue sea beyond the green lawn and 
through the palms somewhere else, but no spot on 
earth can be more beautiful. Instantly then I forgot 
the desolation of all that was back of me, in the 
dream of grandeur of the "New Ambassador" that 
shall equal, if it does not surpass, Naples or any other 
of the world's famous beauty haunts. 

And you, sacred, historic. Mission of Santa Barbara 
— "the first shall be last and the last shall be first" — 



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all should kneel before your shrine in gratitude and 
appreciation, regardless of creed or dogma. How 
noiselessly and tenderly I tried to make each step I 
took in deference to the faithful that had trod earn- 
estly and thoughtfully their paths of duty down 
through the century and more of your efforts. Beau- 
teous Mission of Santa Barbara, for God, reverence 
and humanity. I was almost glad the others of the 
party found it only an incident, and hurry-scurried 
here and there and away. Feverently and sacredly I 
absorbed the outline of every wall and buttress, stone 
and pillar, flower and tree; I drank of the water of 
the fountain, likewise of the fragrance of the garden 
that marks the sleeping hordes of those who have 
made glorious Santa Barbara possible for resident and 
ye humble visitor. In the belfry I gently tapped the 
bells to listen for the sound that was a part of their 
historical echo of joy or sorrow down through time. 
We are proud of this splendid West, we who are a 
part of it in any way, so I did not try to stop the 
tears in memory of my grand parents' ministration to 
the remnant of the Donner Party," and of father's 
arrow-cut face, and proudly thought of their pioneer 
privation that helped blaze the trail for me to you, 
Santa Barbara Mission, as well as kindly Father 
Michael, whose verbal picture of you is so beautiful! 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



017 135 884 P 



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